


Keep following the heartlines on your hand

by onemoreepisode



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Character Development, Deceit, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friendship, Investigation, Law, M/M, Modern Era, Organized Crime, Pining, Police, Trust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 22:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16273538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemoreepisode/pseuds/onemoreepisode
Summary: PC Nikandros enlists Laurent Vere's help in exposing an illegal drug ring organised by his uncle, Mr Regent. Damianos, hot on the heels of preventing an assassination attempt on the deputy prime minister's life, is tasked with protecting Laurent as he attempts to bring down Vere Publishing and its criminal dealings from the inside.But does Laurent have other motives for agreeing to help the force? And at what point will his allegiances change?





	1. Chapter 1

  
“No,” said Laurent, flicking through the printed CCTV images like he was turning the pages of The Independent, and not sat across the desk from a police investigator who could legitimately have his uncle thrown behind bars with just a nod to his commanding officer.

“No, you won’t help us or no he didn’t do it?” PC Nikandros replied, silently cursing himself for pursuing the kind of career that required patience, understanding, and conversing with members of the public who were more often a massive hindrance than any kind of actual help.

He was attractive, this particular man. Even Nikandros, who was straight as an arrow and happily married besides that, could see that there was a certain appeal to him. It wasn’t just the symmetrical face, the smooth skin, and the clear blue eyes that lent to his untouchable beauty.

He carried himself with confidence, had barely blinked when he was escorted from his office to an interrogation room, and Nikandros had the distinct feeling that Laurent was pulling his strings and leading him down dead-end conversations only to let them dissolve just as they started getting interesting.

“Of course he did it,” Laurent replied, looking irked at the suggestion that innocence was even a possibility. “But there is very little I can do for you. My uncle and I are… not on the best of terms,” he said bitterly. “Besides, he is not the kind of man who would overlook my sudden interest in his personal business dealings.”

He quirked a perfectly arched eyebrow at Nikandros’s confused expression. “I suggest you find some concrete evidence and only pursue an arrest when you have something that could stand in even the most corrupt court of law. He’s about as slippery as an eel and not an enemy to be underestimated,” he advised.

A shallow sigh, then: “This has been illuminating, but I have a client meeting at 10am and reflecting on my uncle’s character downfalls is something I prefer to do in my own personal time and usually only after a drink or two of Bourbon at that,” he lied, smiling with one corner of his mouth.

“Wait,” Nikandros said, as Laurent made to stand up. “It’s my understanding that you are Mr Regent’s only living relative. Theoretically… if he were to go down for a crime of this scale, would the business and his properties both abroad and in the country not legally be passed down to you?”

It was a jumbled sentence, but it seemed to have the right effect.

A humoured expression crossed Laurent’s face then, as if he knew this was would be the last card Nikandros would try to play and had been waiting for him to pull it out throughout their entire conversation. “That’s right” he said, like Nikandros was a particularly slow child who had finally figured out the answer to a complex maths equation. “Do you suppose I am entirely motivated by money and personal greed?”

“Of course not - ” Nikandros faltered.

“I am,” Laurent smiled that cold smile again. “But a risk of this magnitude could result in me losing my job, my references, and my occasional good name if it were to fall apart as spectacularly as it inevitably would. What can you and your bumbling team of amateurs promise me in order to secure my help?”

Lazar shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“We can offer both protection and financial reward for any help in bringing down a drug ring as prominent as this one,” Nikandros answered, realising that both this case and the lives of so many innocent people hinged on him giving the right answer to Laurent’s question. He felt as if the next sentence could swing Laurent's opinion of the situation in either direction, and prayed to a God he didn't believe in that his words wouldn't let him down. 

“We also have the finest officers in the country and have already assigned PC Akielos to the investigation. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. He is the best at what he does and has both personal and professional reasons for giving his everything to the case. He is a man of integrity and will be right by your side every step of the way.”

PC Akielos. Laurent had heard of him. He’d caused a ruckus at the Houses Of Parliament last year after disarming a man who attempted to assassinate the Deputy Prime Minister as she concluded Ministerial Question Time. His face had been splashed on the cover of every national newspaper for weeks.

“PC Akielos?” he answered, lifting a hand to his chin and staring Nikandros right in the face. “I’ve never heard of him.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Damen had been finishing up a shift at an opening for London’s Art Gallery when he got the call.

Nikandros sounded flustered, worried, and more than anything else – desperate - as he paraphrased what had gone down during an interview regarding a potential drugs trafficking case.

To his credit, Nik had openly admitted that his name had been used a piece of leverage in order to dazzle the client - to convince him that his participation in the case wouldn’t lead to death, dismemberment, or torture by an angry meth mob with a diminishing supply of goods.

His loyalties to Nikandros ran deep. They had been flatmates at University and had selected twin careers that meant their connection was both personal and professional. _I’d help you bury a dead body_ , Damen had once loudly slurred over drinks three years into their friendship.

At the time, Nik had rolled his eyes, taken the glass from his hand, and escorted him safely back home, but Damen was certain that the feeling was mutual. As he brushed his teeth and made plans for the next morning’s meeting, he wondered if there was anything he would ever deny his old friend. And if this was perhaps the best or worst thing about him.

* * *

 

They were meeting at a Five Guys restaurant at Kings Cross Station. It wasn’t the obvious choice for a tete a tete but Nikandros had insisted that it was too loud in there for anyone to hear their discussion and too busy for anyone to recall their attendance in the first place. 

Damen arrived five minutes early, and silently cursed Nikandros for both involving him in a case that he’d never have picked for himself and for being late to pretty much everything he’d ever organised since birth. He gave a cursory glance around the restaurant.

 _Nik, you absolute and incomprehensible asshole_ , he thought.

It was then that his eyes caught and stopped on a young blond man, a model surely, who looked as if he had fallen straight out of heaven itself and landed, most unfortunately, in the diner of the grottiest train station in the country. 

He was very beautiful, Damen acknowledged privately, taking in the proud lift of his cheekbones, his full mouth, the ways his slender fingers turned the pages of his book. A _book? In a Five Guys restaurant? A miracle in itself_ , he thought. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone, and he let himself wonder, in those long minutes where he had nothing and everything to contemplate, what it would be like to kiss that mouth. _God, I desperately need to get laid_ , he thought, pulling his gaze away.

It was then that Nikandros clapped him on the shoulder and came through with either the best or worst excuse he’d ever offered up in the history of their friendship. “Sorry, I’m late,” he began. “I was busy being my usual self. You know? The person you love and respect without question. Don't even try to tell me otherwise,” he winked. 

As Damen prepared to say something witty in return, Nik led him over to the back of the restaurant, and they stopped abruptly in front of the blond man. “Damen, this is Laurent. Laurent this is Damen. He’ll be helping you with the intricacies of the case,” he began.

To Laurent, he added: “As we discussed previously, PC Akielos has an exemplary track record in the force, is less recognisable than he would have been this time last year and is exactly the kind of man we need in this investigation.”

Damen was momentarily baffled, both by the kind words and the fact that he had been casually daydreaming about a client before they’d even met.

“It’s nice to meet you, Laurent,” he said. “I already have some ideas about how we can proceed with this investigation, but obviously, I’ll be needing the kind of information that only you have access to. There will be time to go over the details in the next few days, but for now, it’s important that we get to know each other and to see how well we can work together.”

Laurent closed his book and fixed his eyes on Damen's. “You have  _some_ ideas?” he replied slowly, before turning to Nikandros instead. “Isn't that reassuring?”

Damen felt a chill wash over him. It was like standing in front of headteacher and having to explain why you hadn't done the homework despite having a solid two weeks to complete the task. He felt uncomfortable all of a sudden, the stark contrast between Laurent's looks and his icy personality leaving him feeling colder than ever. 

"PC Akielos, I find that it’s better to be completely transparent in these situations. I’m not looking for a friend. What I need is a clear indication of what’s expected of me, and an estimation about whether we can actually pull this stunt off or not.

“After all,” he said, waving the waiter over and taking control of yet another situation. “It’s my neck on the line, and not yours. So, tell me. Why have you accepted this case, and what exactly are the _personal and professional influences_ that have left my uncle and our good family name in the firing line? Perhaps you can give me a satisfactory answer by the time starters have arrived," he smiled, leaning forward on his elbows. "Believe me, I have all night." 

 

 

 


End file.
